


A Bit(ty) of a Hard Time

by guro_kuro



Series: horror bitty finds a home [1]
Category: Horrortale (undertale au), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Dark Humor, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Horrortale Sans bitty, M/M, Past Abuse, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus bitty (mentioned), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell Sans bitty (mentioned), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus bitty (mentioned), Underswap Sans (Undertale), Underswap Sans bitty (mentioned), Undertale Papyrus (mentioned) - Freeform, Undertale Sans bitty (mentioned), gender neutral reader, he gets it :D, horror bitty needs a hug :(, it gets better later on in the recovery, puns, this is solely a horror bitty series cause i need more fluff of this boy, whether it be in bitty form or not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24659404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guro_kuro/pseuds/guro_kuro
Summary: You help foster bitties and have been doing so for years. You come across one case that absolutely calls for you to help this poor bitty whose been neglected and abandoned. Though, it's quite hard when the bitty you're fostering doesn't want to be anywhere near humans and resists all help. That doesn't stop you, and you have all the patience in the world and can show him that there's more to this world and you'll get through to this bitty through love and support.orhorror bitty finds love in a world that didn't give him any
Relationships: Sans (Horrortale) & You, Sans (Horrortale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale) & You, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Series: horror bitty finds a home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782934
Comments: 11
Kudos: 121





	A Bit(ty) of a Hard Time

**Author's Note:**

> i need more horror sans fluff and if i have to bring it upon myself to do it then so be it. anyways enjoy!

The bitty in the profile had stood out to you right from the start, and it wasn’t just cause of the gaping hole on the left side of his skull. From the provided image given by the shelter, you can see he was dressed in the bland white adoption attire all bitties wore that are given by the centers. The only difference that stood out was a faded navy blue sweater that adorn the skeleton bitty that had look like patchwork of fabrics instead.

It was odd, but not unusual. Most rescues kept belongings from their days on the streets that they held onto dearly once brought in to the shelter. A sense of comfort you suppose.

Besides his clothing, he appeared to be a derivative of a Sans bitty. But from the giant fracture and one lone red eye in his left socket, you would have believed otherwise.

It had to be the worst case of negligence you’ve seen by far in your four years of fostering rescues. As you continued to scroll through the profile, there was a bit of background on the little guy’s situation.

He was found in a box along the side of a busy street with tattered clothes that clung to his small beaten frame. Not much was known how he gotten his wounds but based from his scraps of clothing, he had a previous owner. The whereabouts of said owner are unknown. When rescuers approached, the bitty was extremely hostile to the newcomers. They knew they immediately had to take him in, the faster the better. Once they were able to safely catch the bitty, they did all they could to rehabilitate him into perfect health.

Despite all they could do, they couldn’t patch up the severe fracture and some fissures along the frontal side of the rib cage. Reading through the general rescue information and general measurements (he was quite tall compared to the average height of bitties, standing as tall as 8”), not much was given about the bitty’s personality. What was given clearly emphasized the nature of his wellbeing, how his hostility almost made him a guest to the euthanize list if he didn’t comply handling with the help of food.

You knew the moment you saw this profile, you were more than ready and capable to foster him. You understood the label that marked this particular bitty as “advanced handling required”, and would have to go through a screening by the organization if you wish to continue on with the fostering process.

You knew if you don’t this, nobody else would. Your heart would break if you didn’t take him in, help rebuild his trust and companionship with humans and show that the world he lived in was not how the whole world is. It was in a bitties nature to be with their owner, and for that to be broken would just leave one lost, eventually falling down in the end.

With years of handling tough cases, the need to help care for this bitty and find him a forever home made you more than determined and confident to go on to the next step.

-

As you approached through the front doors of the shelter, you had fully come prepared both physically and mentally. The front of the shelter had many pins of bitties everywhere in their self designated areas. Within each pin held many groups of bitties, from Sanses to Papyri. The excited balls of energy bitties like Papy and Blues all waved hi to you, and you responded with a smile and small wave.

You carried in with you a small crate with newspaper and wood shavings as temporary padding as requested by the shelter, had a whole introductory greeting you practiced on the car ride over here, and made sure to not appear overly excited in fear of stressing your foster bitty.

Once you made your way over to the counter, you notified the lady behind that you were here to pick up a foster and told the identification number that was given to you. They took the crate from you and walked down the hallway to a back room that you could sort of peer into, but not much from where you’re standing.

You look around as you wait. Noticing the many eyes that stare at your form. You look at the many items on display for purchase, some of which you have previously bought in preparation for your foster.

Once the front desk lady came back after some time, your eyes immediately fall onto the crate in hopes of catching a glimpse of the little guy. You wondered how he would act once he met you, his new foster parent. If this short introductory would lead him to believe you are not the foster for him, if your speech would be a bit too overbearing, if he wouldn’t like your place or items you bought for him, if-

Before you could spiral down to your deprecating thoughts in a matter of seconds any further, the lady kindly interrupts with a huff.

“Whew boy, sorry that took so long! Took a lot more to coax him into getting him in here, but you’re good to go!” She gently pats the crate and pushes it towards you across the counter.

“You’ve passed everything that is required from you to properly foster for his case, now all that is needed is this instruction manual regarding his special diet requirements and a small greeting to get things going! But, uh, fair warning, he’s not quite the talker and uh, likes his space.”

You look up to her and nodded in understanding and turned your attention back towards your new bitty. The lady looked down sadly towards the crate.

“As you’ve already read from his profile, he’s had a hard life out there. Poor guy, wouldn’t want to enter the play pin with all the other bitties.”

You grew worried about this, hoping it wasn’t the telltale signs of Falling. You will do whatever it takes to prevent that from ever happening.

You decide to introduce yourself by slowly placing the back of your hand near the bars of the crate.

You can’t see anything from inside even while your bent at the hip. From what you could make out of, the bitty has already made a swift mess of the newspaper bedding and seems to be hiding under it from the looks of the big lump in the middle. You decided to call out to him softly.

“Hello, I’m y/n!”

You do not shrink back when the lump of newspapers shifts and fall around the skeletal figure. All that can be seen is illuminated by the vibrant red eye light.

From what is illuminated, you see a sharp, feral grin across the bitty’s features. A low emanating growl reverbs in the back of the bitty’s skull, but stops shortly after as you still stand with your hand out still. You see him inch slowly near the gate, hearing small sniffs as he gets accustomed to your scent. But not much afterwards as he recedes back into his newspaper pile.

“Huh.” You drop your hand to your side and give a questioning look to the lady.

“What?”

“He usually does... more than just that.” She smiles fondly between you and the crate. “I think you’ll be just fine. This bitty is in great hands.”

You smile back not fully understanding why that sentiment stuck with you. Nonetheless you thank her and wave goodbye, gently carrying the crate back to your car and heading back home.

-

You arrived safely to your apartment with no difficulties. You made sure to drive slowly so as to not throttle your bitty around and lowered your radio to not blast their non-existent ears off.

As you cleared your keys and coat off your person, you place the crate on the floor of your living room.

“Well, we’re here little guy. Welcome to my abode.”

You are greeted with silence in response, but that’s okay. You could talk for the both of you in the meantime.

“Alright, I’m gonna open your crate and you can leave it whenever you feel ready. In the meantime, I’m gonna prep us some dinner.”

You look across the room towards the clock on your wall, which read it was well late in the evening. You didn’t realize how much time have flown by.

The bitty had yet to move, so you decided to head into the kitchen and quickly make something for the two of you. As you turn around the corner, you don’t see the bitty peer from behind the crate, watching your figure recede. The bitty then swiftly runs and ducks under the nearest furniture.

As you walk into the kitchen, you pull out various vegetables from your fridge and some chicken broth and pasta from your pantry. Nothing beats a welcome home dinner than a warm bowl of homemade chicken soup.

As you chop some veggies and add it to the broth that’s now heating up on the stovetop, you patiently wait at the dinner table. A part of you is anxious leaving the bitty unattended, but you’ve made sure to safe proof the apartment, have no clutter anywhere that can cause harm to him, and left doors closed for that small fear you’ve carried just incase a door magically happens to close in on them.

You have that fear to blame after experiencing a traumatizing event as a kid when you and your friend were playing around with their hamster.

As you continue to wait, you decide to read through the manual that was given to you by the shelter. When you reach the part about his dietary instructions, you are surprised to see that the amount to feed him is more than double than is usually recommended for bitties. You don’t recall reading about why that is in his profile, but he must’ve been emaciated before they found him. You hope that this soup will be enough for him.

A timer went off, signaling the soup was ready, and you prop yourself off and make your way to set the table. You grab two bowls, one small and one big, and serve the amount needed for your bitty and yourself. You bought special dishes and cutlery designed for bitties. It wasn’t required, but made things a whole lot easier and less messy.

Once you finished setting up the table, you head out towards the living room in search of your bitty. There you see that he had decided to venture out, based on the scraps of newspaper and wood shavings that lead a trail under you couch.

“It’s time for dinner, little guy. Hope you like homemade chicken soup.”

You waited to hear a response, but nothing. Not even movement can be heard. You frown, but understand that he’ll still might need his own space. Eventually he’ll come around.

You head back to the table and eat your meal. By then your bitty’s has grown cold. Soon as you finish your meal, your bitty has still yet to show up. You worried that maybe he was lost? Maybe he’s been having a hard time getting up this whole time? He could probably be mute and has no way to get your attention for help??

Before your thoughts get any more hectic, you calmly reach for his bowl and decide to pop it back in the microwave. Bitties shouldn’t have problems getting up and anywhere they wanted to. After all, they do have some residual magic based off the energy of their soul. Sanses have the ability to ‘shortcut’ up on furniture as long as there’s nothing between point A and point B. Maybe he’s just not hungry right now? Case of cold feet? As you heat up his soup, you stalk back to the living room.

“Bitty, I dunno if your hungry or not, but I reheated you’re bowl and left it at the table. If you need me, I’ll be in my room, last room down the hall.”

You stand there wringing your hands, waiting to hear anything, any sound as a response. But you’re greeted with nothing. You softly sigh, and start to head back towards your room. You stop halfway away and turn your head back.

“Welcome home again, bitty. You’ll be safe here and I’ll always be there for you once you’re ready. ‘Til then, make yourself home here. Goodnight.” You softly smile, and trudge on.

-

It’s been a week since you last saw the glimpse of your skeletal bitty. You know he didn’t escape during that time period because you have been feeding him and sticking to his diet ever since, and always have been greeted by empty bowls when you check an hour later.

The morning after you brought him, you checked the dining table and saw the empty dish with the cutlery beside it. You were happy he did end up eating it and had no trouble at all getting up there. You thought maybe he finally came around and just needed some time.

But after calling out to him that didn’t seem to be the case, and you were still back to square one. That didn’t discourage you though, and you kept up calling out to him. Before every meal you’ll always invite him, and for every response you get nothing back.

Throughout the days, you’ve noticed some objects moved around. This let you know that he has wondered around the house, and made you happy that he was at least getting around to know his surroundings. Better than hiding under a couch all day.

Bitties can sleep anywhere that’s comfy for them. The couch armrests, piles of clothes (clean or dirty is up to what preference a bitty can stand either), and even on top of their human. It’s optional for the owner to purchase a bed for their bitty, as adoption centers often advocate for owners to let their bitties sleep on them as it is essential for bitties to retain and absorb energy from others that their soul cannot provide for them.

You haven’t been able to be within contact with your bitty for a week and this worried you. You tried, but he won’t come out and you don’t want to pester him anymore out of his comfort zone.

With all your previous fosters, they usually took sometime getting used to you. You’ve fostered Blueberry Sanses, both Fell line bitties, and a Papyrus and a Stretch. The longest one that took their time to come out of their shell was a Red bitty, and that was only 4 days til he started flirting with you right off the bat. You smile fondly as you reminisce of your previous fosters. You were happy to find all of them homes. Some were hard to let go, some outright cried (no one would believe you if you were to tell them the Edge bitty was the one to cry, but you’ll take that secret with you to the grave), but they all lived happy lives with their new owners. You cannot wait for this one to live theirs.

You understood some have a hard time trusting others once taken to a new place, and with his case quite understandably with what he went through. But a week felt so long and you were beginning to worry he didn’t have enough energy left. Bitties can usually stand up to half a month without receiving any contact depending on their soul energy. You don’t know when was the last time he received energy and you don’t want to find out by seeing his lethargic body.

So for the past couple of days, you’ve been working more and more in your living room rather than your usual workspace in your office in hopes of him getting used to your presence. You have a job as an editorial for a food recipe blog. You love to cook and you love to share pieces of your culture with others through their stomachs. You often write stories of your childhood that food brought on and meaning behind dishes, and give out recipes that you’ve used for years to others. It’s good pay and pays the bills, and you often take pics of your work and edit them to post them on social media for the blog you help run.

It was nearing til sunset when suddenly, you felt a familiar spark of heat and buzzed energy beside you on the couch armrest that stirred you from your work-induced stupor.

“why haven’ ya left already?”

You were certainly not expecting a deep, raspy monotone voice, but didn’t falter from answering right away ‘les your bitty decided to leave.

“I don’t really leave the apartment as often usually. Only go out when I have to run errands like getting groceries or doctors appointments.” You turn your head away from your laptop to finally peer up at your bitty. He didn’t look much different from the first photo you saw of him, but he looked less... stiff than the photo. His smile a bit more relaxed. You smiled at the thought of that. “Why, do you want me to leave already?”

His permanent grin slightly turned down the edges just a bit, enough not to notice, but his one eye light contracted noticeably. You wish you could take your comment back, wondering why you thought joking around like that was a great idea. That’s how he ended up in the first place, for star’s sake! You made sure to never joke around like that again. Before you could say anything, however, he decides to cut in and move past the awkward moment.

“when’s dinner?” he gruffly said, looking away and towards your laptop. You also looked towards the laptop to see the time.

“Oh damn, it’s that time already. What do you want to eat?”

He looks towards you inquisitively, perplexed at the thought of being asked for his opinion. You both have only been eating the remaining leftovers of the soup and some takeout for the past week for dinner, plus some frozen food when you weren’t up for cooking as breakfast, so you wanted to see what he was in the mood for. But as fast as it was, it went away and was replaced with a bored, neutral look.

“dunno. got any meat?”

You think for a moment what you could do with deli in your fridge, and think of an idea.

“How does a sandwich sound?”

“burgers?” The face you see as he nearly salivates at the thought of eating a juicy patty between toasted buns was too much for you. You barely could hold in the excited grin in fear of making him embarrassed and close off the only emotion you’ve seen from him.

“Sounds good, I’ll get on with it.”

You were just in luck that you had leftover buns from the recipe you did on pork sliders recently so you get those out and the burger patties as well as some vegetables. You start by heating a pan on low heat with a bit of butter to grill your patties. Throughout your cooking, you don’t seem to notice your bitty whose propped himself on your counter and watching intently your every move.

While waiting for the patties to cook, you turn around to cut up some veggies but were surprised to see your bitty there staring up at you. He seems to be trying to get to know you more now. You smile at him and continue on with what you’re doing.

“don’tcha have a job t’go to? ya been here all week.”

You stop your cutting of tomatoes as you think of an answer to respond with.

“Well, I work from home. I write recipes for foodie blogs and photograph my work. That’s why I hardly leave my apartment besides going for grocery runs. Also why my fridge always seems to have everything you can crave for.”

You missed the way your bitty’s eye light dilated at the mere mention of a fully loaded fridge.

As you continue cooking, you flip the burgers onto the other side. As that continues cooking, you butter your buns and toast them on another pan. Once everything is cooked, it’s time to stack.

You bring out two plates and begin arranging both of your burgers, asking your bitty what he wants on his burger. He responds with “everything”.

“Condiment?”

“ketchup.” You do not miss the way his eye light sparkles at the mention of the red condiment. You think you should be worried.

You grab both plates and condiment and make your way to the table. You are greeted with another new sight of your bitty waiting patiently at the table. You couldn’t help but smile at that and place both plates down.

As you get drinks, you watch him remove his bun and absolutely drench his burger in ketchup. The corners of your mouth turn downward and brows furrowed, but shrug it off. You turn on the TV and played a random channel with a nature documentary playing and return to your meal.

The two of you eat in silence, watching the documentary. Your bitty finished before you, licked the entire plate clean. Literally. You made a mental note to stock up twice the amount you usually buy next time you go shopping for groceries for your bitty.

You quite disliked calling your bitty ‘bitty’, but owners were the ones to have the privilege of naming their bitties once they’ve been adopted as a way to get closer and finalize the adoption. You range from little guy or little dude for your fosters, but it’s a bit too long. So you offer a nickname to use for them in the meantime. You decided to ask him once you finished your burger.

“Soo I know introductions are a little overdue at this point, but I wanted to ask what you would like to be called as for the mean time?”

The bitty in question turns his attention away from the TV and looks up at you with an emotion you can’t quite place. He looks down at his lap in thought, but his face turns into a scowl and looks up at you with disdain.

“why? ya ain’t my owner. never will be, and never will have one.”

Before you could respond, the same vibrating energy you felt earlier returns and his skeletal figure appears on the floor as he walks away, hands clenched in his tattered sweater that he kept.

You don’t know what went wrong. You don’t know what you did. You sigh and grabbed both empty plates to be washed. You don’t know what happened, everything was going so nice, he was starting to open up. You weren’t sure what square you were back onto.

You return to the living room but don’t see your bitty anywhere. You turn off the TV and remember that it’s about time your bitty switch out of his clothing to be washed. You go to your room to fish out a bag of items you purchased from the shelter, and ventured back to the living room with a bitty size white shirt and black shorts and some cozy socks and a nice fluffy blue jacket.

“Hey, um, I brought some clothes for you. I’ll leave them on the armrest here.” You place them down and turn to turn out the lights and head in for the night. You stop before you turn around the corner.

“I’m sorry I upset you. Goodnight, little guy.” And with that you went to bed.

-

The next morning you came out to prepare breakfast and were glad to see the pile of dirty clothes your bitty left out in exchange for clean clothes. All except one.

The fluffy jacket you were sure he’d like was there where you last left it. You frowned, but understood that he must’ve held his jacket more dearly than you originally thought. You hope he wouldn’t fight about washing it though.

Ever since that night, your bitty had began to be more... vocal. You felt like he wasn’t really coming out of his shell and more like he was putting up with your existence. Last night seemed to hinder your relationship with the bitty, but you were sure to not let it buffer it for too long. You considered it to be a good thing at least as he made conversation, a better improvement than silence on one end. But it might be considered ‘crude’ to others. Not as inappropriate like Red bitties with their infamous flirtatious attitudes and obscene language some owners love. Your bitty was different in that sense.

Like all Sans bitties, they love their punny humor and pitch in their jokes in every conversation they can. They love to laze around, pulling half of an effort in doing tasks. You’ve heard many stories from one of your friends that their Sans bitty was so lazy to be lazy that it seemed that they had a schedule they strictly followed as lazily as possible. It dumbfounded you to say the least at the immeasurable laziness a Sans bitty can contain.

Anyways, your foster bitty acted the same way as a Sans bitty, just in a darker mannered.

One day as you were working, you were having trouble including a story you wanted to add in. You were wordlessly listing ways off how to word it and you were starting to get frustrated. Your bitty, who was sitting on the coffee table watching the TV that was on low volume for you to concentrate, turned around with a crooked grin and mischievous glint in his eye.

“heh. ya seem to have trouble with yer words there, pal.”

“Ugh, yea I am. I want to include this anecdote but I just don’t know how to go about it.”

“well,” he cocked his head and looked to the side, “it must be important to have a good vocab’ if yer gonna be writer. if i’d known the difference between the words ‘antidote’ an’ ‘anecdote’...” he fully turned his face to you, empty sockets staring up at you as his grin turned maniacal.

“...my owner woulda been still a l i v e.”

Your face must’ve been what he was hoping for cause he burst out cackling, skull thrown back as he openly laughed at your fear-stricken face.

“heheh, the look on yer face is priceless. heheh oh pal. _words_ cannot describe your reaction.” He continued to snicker as you rub your face in relief and embarrassment for falling for that. I mean, who could blame you? There have been some cases where some bitties defended themselves against their owners who mistreated them. It seemed viable, and you were more than ready to report anything you learned about your bitty’s case, even it was possible homicide. Boy, were you glad it didn’t have to come to that.

This wasn’t the last time you got a taste of dark humor, and it only seemed to gradually get darker.

Over the second week of his stay at your home, your bitty seemed to like pranks. Pranks that nearly gave you heart attacks.

On one occasion, you had come out of your room to use the restroom late at night. Once you had finished your business, you were washing your hands half asleep in the dark. It was when you actually opened your eyes that you saw a red eye light staring into you through the reflection of the mirror.

Of course, you shrieked and whirled around to see your bitty sitting atop the towel hanger snickering at your reaction.

“Why are you here!? You should be asleep!l

“yer were making too much noise so i came to check what’s up.”

“In the bathroom?? How long have you been here??”

“enough.”

The blank face of your expression was enough to make him reiterate what he meant.

“not for that long, gross. bitties got no interest in human business. just came to give ya a scare so you could keep it down.”

You scolded him on intruding your human privacy and to next time properly ask to be quiet and scooted him out the bathroom.

Since then you’ve made sure to always turn on the lights during your nighttime adventures.

Another time was when you had taken a break from work and got up to get a snack. On your way there, you saw a pile of your bitty’s clothes on the counter. You found this as odd, and wondered if he had dirtied them already. You rolled your eyes. Was it so hard to ask you for help and new pair of clothes? And to not leave them on the kitchen counter? That’s unsanitary!

As you approached closer, you noticed the clothes were covered in white dust. It took your mind to connect the dots, and your eyes immediately widened with shock.

‘No no no no no’

You dropped the clothing as if it burned you. You knew you should’ve done something earlier, should’ve held him even if he resisted. It’s his health that’s at stake, not your relationship! Never before has this happened to you, you don’t know what to do, oh no oh no oh no oh-

You were about to start crying until you heard your familiar raspy bitty laughing above you. You looked tearily up at him. He was sitting up on top of one of the shelves that held your spices, wearing his jacket and torn napkin around his pelvis. For a Sans bitty, he seemed to really put a lot of effort into this horrible prank.

“heheheh i really got you good there huh?”

As you looked down and realized the dust you once thought it was appeared to be salt. You turned up and scowled at him.

“That wasn’t very funny.”

He returned the scowl and straighten up.

“jeez, ever heard of a joke?” His frown turned upwards around the corners of his mouth. “no need to act so _salty_.”

As he continued snickering at his pun, you used it as a distraction and swiftly made a grab for him before he could dodge. As gently as if you were cradling a baby chick, you held him close to your chest and securely so as not to let him get away.

“h-hey! lemme go! stop as- _salt_ -ing me!”

“No! This is your punishment for scaring me half to death!”

“i don’ want ya stinky human hands on me!”

“And I don’t want you to die!”

He stayed quiet after that, but still struggled against you. You held him for a few minutes before you decided he’s had enough and was enough to satiate your fears.

As you lessen your hold on him, he immediately jumps down away from you. He walks further away from you but swivels around with the largest you’ve seen his eye fill his socket, radiating the anger he compressed inside.

“don’ e v e r touch me again. i don’ need no human and i don’t. need. **you**.” Then he shortcut away. You never saw him for the rest of the day. Not even for dinner. It wasn’t even a good dinner since there was no more salt left.

You couldn’t work for the rest of that day, but you’d made up for it after. That was the worst outcome after one of his pranks. Ever since then, your relationship only seemed to go downhill.

-

It was halfway into the month where the onslaught of pranks and cruel jokes were kicked up a notch that you’ve had enough. You’ve put up with them ‘cause you thought you were making progress with him, but being the butt end of jokes and harassed was not progress. Especially with the nicknames he started calling you, like ‘meathead’. You decided to put an end to this.

You stood in the middle of the living room with your arms folded and appeared as sternly as you could appear.

“Bitty, we need to talk.”

It took a while, and you were not expecting for him to actually respond to your calls, but you didn’t let that deter you.

He shortcut up on the coffee table, sitting down on the piles of magazines you had.

“what ya want?”

“I wanted to talk about your recent behavior as of lately.”

“yea?” He feigned interest as he tilted his head and leant back on his hands, “whatta ‘bout it?”

“Your jokes have gone too far from being acceptable, bitty. I don’t appreciate them, and neither would your future owner.”

That caught the bitty’s attention and straightened his back as he looked intently at you, his eye light pulsing.

“future owner, huh? be a damn shame then...”

“What?” You asked suspiciously of where he was going with this, eyebrow cocked in question.

“a damn shame to be sent back to the shelter. head back to where i was. a damn shame to be sent out back on the streets where I belong. a damn shame to be where i wanna be, where i belong to be.” Every passing second as your bitty spoke seemed to make him spiral from his usual cool headed self to seething anger directed to you. Your stern stance that you build began to shrink away as your bitty continued to glare at you with hatred. It was when he got up from his spot that you dropped your arms and scornful face melted to sympathy.

“you humans seem to claim they know what they’re doing, know why they’re doing it, and don’t even realize it’s all a load of bullshit. you play around with us like you’re some omnipotent being who can do whatever the hell they want. none of you bothered to ask any bitty what they want. ya just forced us all to be some kinda pet. none of you actually wondered what i wanted, how i came to be. how i got this fucking eye sore of a fucking fracture!” He pointed to his gaping hole, his eye light wide in his eye socket.

“it was from you humans who did this to me! it was from you humans who taught us bitties that humans would be there for me. in reality i was left out on the streets by those who said they’ll keep me safe. just like _you_ said. so yea, i think ‘my behavior of as of lately’ could be damn well justified. ya used the same words my previous owner did, and look where that got me! why wouldn’t i be pissed off on being sent back to the kind who couldn’t do what everybody claims a bitty needs in order to live when all’a that is bullshit. i wasn’t shown any love and compassion, only pain an’ sadness an’ starvation!

“so, yea, it’d be a damn shame to be sent back on death’s doorstep. but don’t worry, ya don’t have to knock. you humans rang the doorbell long time ago.” The bitty was panting heavily, voice raspy from all the shouting and pent up anger he held in for so long, sockets closed tightly to prevent any tears streaming down. He will not cry in front of the enemy. Not to the face of the _monster_ that damned his existence. When he did open his sockets, the candle in him that fueled the fire had burnt out, and he was left empty with the void inside. He plopped down on the table with a huff and stared at his lap. More silence continued on between the two of you, before it was broken by the skeletal bitty.

“i thought you’d be different. i thought… you’d see me different. that im more than just a bitty, more than something to be played around with like a toy... only to be forgotten.”

“Did I… treat you like the previous human who owned you?” You spoke for the first time after a while, and it was to ask a fear you worried about ever since you brought in this bitty. You knew he needed to let out the anger and hatred he held within him for stars knows how long. You were finally able to sit down and talk with him, and you wanted to lay out everything on table and clear any misunderstandings. He stayed quiet for a moment, but looked up at you once he spoke.

“…no. you didn’t. never had. i don’t know why i said that… you just…it’s just,” he began to rub his face roughly in frustration, breathing in deep before speaking. “you’ve treated me so much more differently than anyone else. i don’t get it. you have shown me more kindness than anyone else has, with more compassion or, or, more consideration for what i want. i just don’t get it.” He looks up from his hands and up to you. “why?”

You slowly move to sit down on the ground beside the coffee table, being on a more equal level with your bitty.

“Ever since I saw your case, I knew I wanted to take you in. I knew that if I didn’t, no one else would. Your profile alone could not express the abuse you’ve been through, let alone the trauma. I wanted to be your foster parent cause I wanted to show you that there is a life outside of the world you’d been through. A life where you could be in safe arms and live the bitty life you all deserve to.” You stretched out your arms and cupped your hands towards your bitty, an invite. He crawls over and sits on top. You bring him closer to your face at an eye level.

“I meant what I said to you the very first day I brought you home. You really are safe here, and I will always be there for you. No matter what, no matter how many times you’ll push me away, you’ll still have me by your side.”  
You watch as his face widen from shock, eye light warbling around the edge as fat tears rolled down his face, hiccupping as he openly cried in front of you.

“why…” his voice was thick and wet with emotion, “why did they leave me? was i not, did i, what did i do wrong?” you shushed him softly and gently wiped away his tears with your thumbs. He grabbed one of them and buried his face and continued to sob.

“Shhh, you didn’t do anything wrong baby. You are not the one to be blamed. You don’t deserve what happened to you, nobody does.” You continued soothing him, gently scratching at the back of his skull and back. Eventually, the sobbing stopped and was replaced with the faintest of snores you’ve heard. You cradled him closer to your chest, stood up slowly and walked back to your room. You laid down on your bed with your bitty sleeping soundly on your chest, still scratching up and down his back.

You couldn’t sleep, not after all that. Whatever sick bastard out there that did this to him caused him more than physical scars. They left psychological ones too. Your poor bitty believed every human out there had bad intentions, and only reacted the way they could. Closing himself off towards those that reached out to him, biting back and playing around far too cruelly to keep himself and others at a distance. You reaching out and trying to understand him below all the layers he built up was more to break the camel’s back, a fear of showing more what laid beneath.

After what felt like hours, your bitty proceeded to squirm under your hand to look up at you, his red eye light dull from exhaustion. You both stared at each other for a moment before he broke the silence.

“so, what now?” his hands curled around the fabric of your shirt, clawing and pawing as you continued to pet him.

“Well, that’s up to you. If you think we can’t work this out, then we’ll go back to the shelter and find you the right foster.” He stopped pawing at the mention of going back.

“Or, you stay and we work out what we need to work out to help get you back on track and find you the right owner for you, for a better life.” You stopped petting him and brought a finger under his chin to turn his attention towards you. “I promise you, I’ll do a background check behind every person who’ll want to adopt you. I won’t let just anybody get their ‘stinky human hands’ on you.”

You saw him smile up at you and laugh as you reused his words from before. A genuine smile and hearty laugh, and that was all it took to laugh along with him. Once the both of you finished giggling, his expression began to turn solemn and looked down at his hands.

“i don’t… i’m afraid to get attached. i don’t want to lose what i have, or used to have…” You look down and see the faded blue jacket he carried with him ever since he was brought into the shelter.

“And you won’t. I will never abandon you. I’ll be right with every step of the way towards your recovery. And until that time comes, where you’ll leave with your new family and new life, maybe we could stay in touch? See each other and catch up every once in a while? It’s all up to you.”

“yea, i think… i’ll like that.” He relaxed again, nuzzling your chest before laying still to sleep for the rest of the day.

“Then we’ll do that.” You continued to scratch his back until you fell asleep as well, with your bitty closer to you than ever.

[twitter](https://twitter.com/yr40899532)  
[tumblr](https://yr40899532.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> i plan to make this a small series of the adventures of our lil horror bitty.
> 
> will he get a name? find a home? we'll soon find out! 
> 
> thank you again for reading if you made it this far, and hope to see you on the next run!


End file.
